new off-grid lesbian commune found

hi friends,

When I was crossing the country doing my thesis research on intentional communities and ecovillages, one of the biggest things I was hoping to find were LGBTQ+ focused communities. Turns out, that search felt near impossible.

I did find some. A Catholic service house in Kansas City ended up having a half a dozen or so young queer women; an income-sharing community farm in upstate New York was led by transgender farmers.

None of that demographic information is available publicly, though. I happened to stumble across those groups by sheer odds.

A year or so later, it’s happened again.

communing

Nestled in Northern California’s rolling yellow hills, tucked between endless vineyards, was a simple gravel driveway. We followed it a mile or so, during which a spot of cell service opened up, and I frantically texted our host that we were about to arrive.

“I know,” she texted back, “I can hear you!”

Our tires guttering on the gravel were more effective than any doorbell.

Thus began our weekend of camping and ‘work party’-ing on one of California’s original back-to-the-land lesbian communes from 1977 - one of the few that’s still surviving (and thriving) today.

We installed electrical conduit and water lines for a new water catchment system, and removed invasive brush. We celebrated three birthdays, and shared home-cooked meals around picnic tables.

I’d never seen, much less spent time with, so many queer women in their 50s, 60s, 70s, and beyond. And they radiated joy: scampering up and down ravines, operating power tools, and dancing together from “Uptown Funk” to “Funkytown.”

It was a vision of queer aging I’d never had access to, especially on this scale: they were strong, and vivacious; friendly, and opinionated; comfortable, and free; building the life they desire, together, one year at a time. Some of them had been doing it for nearly 50 years.

I couldn’t help but think how life-changing it would have been for me as a teenager to see a place like this, or just to know it exists. Yet like most of its peers, this community stays carefully hidden from outsiders — and for good reason.

privacy as safety

Often, intentional communities founded around a marginalized identity prefer to stay hidden. What makes them so special is partly what puts them at risk.

There’s a reason many of these groups avoid publicity, even in communitarian spaces.

The issue makes me think of Tenacious Unicorn Ranch, a trans, anarchist alpaca farm which was featured in a number of high-profile news outlets, including Vice and NPR, in 2020 and 2021. They received tons of public excitement. Then they faced physical attacks from armed gunmen. The group has since dissolved.

This reservedness doesn’t just apply to LGBTQ communities. Another, less dire example is the Maskoke ecovillage Ekvn-Yefolecv. While they have a website, profiles in community directories, and speak in academic settings, they avoid any major press, and allow visitors by invite-only. While they wish to share their story and create a replicable blueprint, the village is careful to avoid becoming a spectator site or tourist destination.

so what can/should we do?

For many of these communities, being in the public eye in any capacity isn’t an option, and it isn’t a desirable one.

At the same time, having these groups’ existence be publicly accessible can

• be really meaningful & hope-bringing for marginalized youth

• diversify the voices and perspectives shaping the modern IC movement

• improve the accuracy of research on ICs

So what options are there?

Affinity-group communities could register themselves with IC databases (like the FIC and GEN) while anonymizing their location and identifying information, to raise awareness without risking exposure.

On the flip side, IC databases could/should do a better job of making themselves accessible and unintimidating to groups that want to hide their location — for example, mentioning anonymity options on a FAQ page, or having a separate entry option for groups that want to protect their locations.

Another idea? Strengthening word-of-mouth networks that share about the existence of places like these, without revealing sensitive information, like the location. This can be as simple as thoughtfully-worded sharing with friends.

This makes sure that information travels between trusted parties, and doesn’t require public internet sites. And according to the six-degrees-of-separation theory, we’re all more connected than we think. But, it still might skew what demographics are reached towards homogeneity.

None of these ideas are perfect. I think this is an ongoing conversation, and likely one that has and will go on for a long time.

Have thoughts? Ideas? Examples or articles to share? I’d love to hear from you in the comments or email replies, as always.

what’s new with me~

All the existential questions aside, I’m feeling really grateful to have been connected to this community, and to have been a witness and a participant in the joy there.

I’m a little bit sad to be back in the city after days of lush nature — but hey, you can’t win them all :)

Stay warm & stay cool!

if you’re enjoying this newsletter, don’t forget to:

much love,

jasper